


Lessons Learned

by japastiel



Series: 101 kinks [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Five times + one, Humor, Improper Use of Ósanwe, Incest, Kink Meme, M/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Humor, Sibling Incest, Spanking, almost getting caught, getting caught
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 15:43:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6085446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/japastiel/pseuds/japastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five Times Celegorm and Curufin almost get caught + one time they do</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Celegorm comes in Curufin’s mouth it’s a near disaster. He’s leaning up against a prickly old oak tree on the edge of the forest and he can hear the singsong duet of their younger brothers calling after him. He was supposed to be at the archery range with them, correcting their form for their upcoming hunting trip and instead he’s slack jawed banging his fists against scratchy bark to keep from screaming as he spills down Curufin’s throat. If anyone asked him exactly how he got here he would probably stutter and stumble to remember, something along the lines of Curufin being a sneaky bastard and much much stronger than he looks. He’s definitely going to have obvious hand shaped bruises on his biceps and wrists.

 

Curufin pulls off him with a slick filthy pop and licks his lips like the asshole cat who got the cream, “Good luck explaining those to mother and father.”

 

Celegorm slumps against the tree, sweaty and boneless, “I fucking hate you. And stay outta my head.”

 

“You love me being inside you _everywhere_ and no you don’t.” Curufin drags his tongue stupidly slow back and forth in the crook of his stupid lips, “You _love_ me. But you will have some serious explaining to do if you don’t pull your trousers up because Ambarussa are less than twenty paces away.” He raises his irritatingly perfect eyebrows as he stands and brushes the dirt and twigs from his knees.

 

Celegorm hikes up his pants and ties the laces with shaky fingers, nothing like an impromptu mind blowing orgasm to knock his blood sugar and hormones into haywire overdrive. “Sometimes I think you want us to get caught.”

 

Curufin scrunches the arrogant line of his perfectly straight nose and dips his lips into a half frown, “Not by our little _brothers_ you pervert. Not that the brother part is really the problem come to think of it.” Celegorm often wonders what Curufin would do if he wheeled back and broke his nose for being impossibly smarmy. He’d probably whine less if Celegorm timed it just right and blamed it on the in-the-moment-heat of being fucked. _I love you so much I couldn’t help but break your perfect face. Forgive me?_ He wouldn’t actually do it, but a guy can daydream.

 

Curufin smirks and palms Celegorm’s oversensitive softening cock just as the twins trample the low lying brush into their sex den clearing of shame. _Break my face while your cock is between my teeth and see what happens._ Celegorm catches himself mid shudder and shoves Curufin away, batting at his hand when the oblivious boys bound up to them.

 

“Tyelkoooo, Tyelko you promised to meet us midday at the ranges. We’ve been waiting for at least half an hour.” Amrod’s eyebrows are knitted amusingly tight together, obviously trying to imitate their father’s most displeased face and missing the mark completely. Amras is pouting wide eyed like the saddest puppy in the whole world and Celegorm wishes the forest floor would open up and swallow him whole. Nothing like his baby brothers nearly catching him with his dick right where it shouldn’t be to lay on the guilt.

 

Celegorm hears Curufin’s amused snort, _You seem to want a lot of things to swallow you whole today, Turco._ Celegorm groans internally and understands the constant look of exasperation in his mother’s eyes. This is only the second most inopportune time to think of how disappointed his mother would be in him. The first being the time she called for him to bring in the clean laundry off the line while he was face down ass up with Curufin’s dick ten and a half inches dirty deep in him. He didn’t even bother to call him cocky anymore, Curufin’s response was usually just a quirked eyebrow and a sloe eyed smirk. Smug bastard.

 

“We’ll tell mother if you don’t come.” Celegorm grinds his teeth into a pained grin as they singsong the threat. He gathers the twins to leave for the ranges, not letting the audible snick of laughter spill from Curufin’s lips go unnoticed. _Too late boys, he’s only just came. Gotta give him some time before he’s ready to go again_. The echoing croon of Curufin’s words are just another chip at his tried patience.

 

_Shut your disgusting cockhole or I’ll fuck you blue in the face later._

 

_Is that a promise?_

 

“Settle down boys of course I’m _coming_.” The offending word settles on his tongue like bitter acid, he can hear Curufin laughing louder now even though he was the one on his knees. Curufin readily admits that he’s a filthy cockslut so shaming him only serves to irritate Celegorm more. Celegorm tries and fails to hide the palpable irritation radiating off him.

 

Curufin takes his leave with an overly paternal ruffle of their mismatched auburn hair “See you later for _dinner_ , Tyelko. Or maybe even dessert afterwards?” It’s not really a question and Celegorm doesn’t miss the leering double entendre. He’s definitely going to be the main dish if Curufin gets his way.

 

The twins narrow their sharp quicksilver eyes shifting uneasy looks between Celegorm and Curufin with mirrored frowns, “You guys are so _weird_.”

  
_Weird_. Celegorm can live with weird.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celegorm rethinks the actual definition of payback.

Celegorm rethinks the actual definition of payback as his cheek slides through a pool of his own sweat and drool puddling on the wooden desk in the room where, just moments earlier, Curufin was teaching an introductory class on the importance and art of smithing to young children. Celegorm’s heart swells as he remembers when Curufin had been so young and gifted, showing aptitude for work in the forge. He knows their entire family was proud but he’d bet good money he had been the most elated to watch his brothers incredible skills develop. Only a few years later he had started tutoring young smiths and now Finwë had him teaching official classes in the palace when he isn’t working in the forges. The thought of his younger brother molding minds and filling such a paternal role did _things_ to Celegorm. Not normal brotherly pride. Not even close. And this was supposed to be his grand moment for revenge, to get back at Curufin for all the times he teased him, taunted him with his exquisitely muscled body in the most inopportune times. Especially the time with the too tight breeches in the stables. Riding for hours on end with a boner that just wouldn't quit had been torture. His devious plan seems to have backfired and now he’s about to get fucked right in the middle of the palace and the door is definitely not locked.  

 

Celegorm reluctantly looks over his shoulder just as Curufin’s tongue drags flat over his asshole to the base of his spine leaving a tinsel thin trail of spit up to his teeth as he curls his tongue back into his mouth. Celegorm bites his lip hard enough to draw blood and scrunches his toes up in his boots-- who knew his tailbone was ticklish. His breath catches as he sees Curufin go in for the kill, he’s smirking kisses up, up into his shoulders as he teases the head of his cock slick over his hole. Celegorm would roll his eyes and snark that he should quit pussyfooting around and get on with the show-- but he’s afraid if he tries his eyes might just roll back into his head permanently because _Fuck that feels good_.

 

He should be embarrassed for so so many reasons, most of them completely reasonable, but the only one registering in Celegorm’s sex-saturated lizard brain is that his cheeks are flaring with the anticipation of being fucked for the third time today. In his defence it was impossible to say no when he was roused with Curufin’s lips on his cock, not that he would want to anyway. And _shit_ he always thinks he’s prepared for the electric sizzle burn up his spine when Curufin pushes in thick and just slow enough for Celegorm to swallow a loud whine itching to escape from his throat. Instead he drops his forehead to the tabletop with a dull thump and a long rattling moan croaking from his chest behind tightly clamped lips.

 

Curufin is halfway through his fourth ludicrously slow thrust when Celegorm hears two horrifyingly familiar voices echoing in from the corridor. His life flashes before his eyes as the normally soothing tones of his father’s and grandfather’s voices drift in through the-- _holy shit the door is definitely still open_. Before he can apologize that they didn’t live long enough to see their youngest brothers reach adulthood he’s being unceremoniously shoved into the very small craft closet, his pants still around his ankles and his hardon is bobbing stupidly into his stomach.

 

He wants to curse but bites his lip again as he wonders _Who the fuck leaves an open cup of paint precariously balanced on the edge of a closet shelf_. Curufin probably if his wardrobe at home is anything to go by. He lets the paint slide in thick globs down his chest, onto his cock and down to the floor. And for the love of all that is holy he hopes Curufin got his trousers up before he hears the door open and Fëanor and Finwë both enter the room. Both of them are looking for Curufin of course. If anyone opens the closet he’s certain he’ll die of embarrassment before anyone has time for questions.

 

He silently hangs his head and wonders how long he can go without breathing, if they can hear his ragged just-been-fucked breaths over his shivering. Because he’s terrified and almost entirely naked just on the other side of the most flimsy door in the entire fucking palace from his father and grandfather-- the crown prince and high king of the entire fucking Noldor. _Fuck_.

 

Now would be a great time for his boner to take its leave but the head of his cock is still rubbing between his slick paint covered belly and the wall. And the fact that all it takes to get him stirred up is his brother’s ludicrously deep voice resonating through the door cracks combined with the gentle pressure on his dick is possibly the worst thing ever. _Fuck this entire situation and fuck you Curvo._

  
If he had room to move his arms he would try and slither his trousers back over his hips but his arms are effectively pinned to his sides and why the everloving _fuck_ are the walls so warm and is that a subtle vibration he’s detecting? He hears the low rumble of his grandfather’s laughter and the shuffle of three sets of boots exiting the room, and thank Eru Iluvatar above he hears the snick of the door closing and the voices receding. He may not have gotten off for a third time-- but he also won’t have to explain to his father why he’s naked, hard and covered in paint in his brothers craft closet on his first day as an official palace instructor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celegorm hates beets.

Celegorm hates beets and right now he’s nose deep in them; not that anyone would be able to tell his flushed cheeks from the ruddy vegetable. Curufin’s hand comes down like a thick clap of thunder. _Slap_. _You’ve been a bad, bad boy, Tyelkormo._ Curufin flutters around in his mind like a gentle rhythmic breeze, Celegorm can almost feel the hot heat drip of sweat down his brother’s neck if he focuses hard enough. Curufin’s hand soothes over the reddening spot on his bare ass.

 

Somehow a basic cooking lesson had turned into this, Celegorm bent over spread eagle and his fingers gripping the pantry shelf so hard his joints are cramping and his tunic is hiked up dangling around his neck. His trousers are probably ruined, Curufin had all but shredded the laces pulling them down passed his knees.

 

Curufin smooths his hand over his ass in perfect little circles before reeling back. _Slap._ Celegorm can feel his molten quicksilver eyes burning a hole right through the base of his skull. Celegorm swears he can hear the clench of Curufin’s teeth as he shudders, waiting, wanting the next-- _Slap._

 

_Tyelkormo._

 

_You were going to teach me how to cook today._

 

Completely true but-- with all the electric shock of Curufin in, on and completely surrounding him he’s so overwhelmed he doesn’t remember how they got here exactly. All he knows is that it can’t stop. This is better than cooking anyway. _Slap_.

 

_You couldn’t manage to keep your eyes off me. Slap._ Also true. Curufin was-- is the most gorgeous beautiful exquisite thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. He could die happy if the last thing he saw was any part of Curufin. _Slap. Not long enough to cook anything._

 

He opens his mouth to speak and all that comes out is a low whine, Celegorm can feel his cock bobbing back into his belly with every shudder of his body. He already knows he’s going to come completely untouched if Curufin keeps this up. He grits his teeth and attempts to sound out what should be his brothers name but it’s so cracked and broken it just sounds like a reedy whine of incoherent consonants.

 

_Slap. You know what happens to bad boys who forget the sugar in sugar cookies._ Curufin rakes the bare tips of his fingers down the inside of his thighs and finds the drips of precome trailing down-- and Celegorm can hear the obnoxious pop of fingers between his lips. He hums so perfect and-- _Slap._ _Don’t you bad boy._

 

Boy does he ever. He forgot the sugar but Curufin is making up for it. Double time. _Slap. Hmm. Such a bad boy. Slap._

 

_Slap. Yeah, such a bad, bad boy Tyelko._ He pulls all the vowels out on purpose. Curufin takes his time enunciating his thoughts, drawing everything out like cold molasses on a chilly morning. Celegorm knows you have to warm it up for it to work, for it to drizzle perfectly. And Curufin is warming him up just right. Curufin’s whiskey rich voice is spilling out right into Celegorm’s mind and it really is on the perfect lightning path to his achingly hard cock. _Slap._

 

Celegorm stretches his fingers away from the shelf he’s sure his fingerprints are seared into. He’s panting with the desperate need to touch his cock righthtefucknow. He’s so hard he feels the tendrils of pain ebbing with the flow of pooling desire in his groin. Just on the good side of painful   _No don’t touch yourself Tyelko. Slap._

 

_Leave your hands right where they are. Slap._ He regrips the shelf and he’s overstretched like a used up taut rubber band. He can feel himself starting to snap back in slow motion.   _You gonna come for me, Tyelko? Slap._

 

_Yes. Fuck. Yes._

 

_Come for me. Come for me. Slap._

 

Celegorm bears his teeth and feels every muscle in his body clench and tense over and over and he’s being flayed from the inside out and he wants to-- _Slap.  Tyelko come for me. Slap._

 

His jaw opens in a silent cry and he screws his eyes shut. Seeing is too much now, even in the dim lamp light. Every colour is spinning in vivid technicolour as release bursts in every corner of his brain. _Come. Slap. Now. Slap._

 

His ass burns like electric fire. Sizzling with fifteen-- or is it twenty hard hits in and he does exactly what Curufin wants him to and he feels like he’s flying-- no falling and fuck he’s coming on some sort of food product-- he’s certain of it. He hopes it isn’t the honey cakes. Fuck, it’s the honey cakes. Celegorm is sure Curufin will still eat them cum coated. Waste not want not.

 

Another wave and and he’s falling right into the abyss as he spills in waves of starstatic. His knees are shuddering and his entire body shakes under the careful bracket of Curufin’s fingers circling around his waist.  His arms are shaking now and Curufin’s hands are stroking his back as he gasps, cooing as softly as he can, _I got you Tyelko. Such a good boy. I love you._

 

Celegorm is eating up every word like the sugar cookies they were trying to make, but salt isn’t sugar and _that’s_ how this started. He was too distracted by the perfect curve of his brother’s perfect ass in the skin tight pants he wore on purpose. Salt is not sugar and the cookies were ruined. Curufin shoved him into the pantry and slammed him into the perfect position for the ideal punishment. _Bend over Tyelkormo, you’ve been a bad boy but after this you won’t forget to taste the sugar before pouring salt into the dough._

 

It turns out the pantry is a magical place with no lock on the door and right now the door handle is turning and Curufin’s big warm hands are dropping him and he’s falling cold, slumping face first into the pile of sweat stained beets. Curufin slips through the door and in one forceful snick it’s dark again.

 

Celegorm can hear muffled voices right outside the door as he tries to control his breathing; it’s in his best interest to remain as silent as possible. Curufin explains that he knows he’s a terrible cook and he’s sorry for wasting ingredients again. Maedhros has to know better, Curufin would never be alone in the pantry, much less attempting to cook anything on his own, or apologizing for the resulting disaster.

 

Curufin isn’t the only one aware of his vast failure as a cook, the entire household remembers the time he scorched the kitchen ceiling attempting to boil water. The notion that Curufin can bind alloys for a perfectly balanced piece of finely crafted jewelry in the forge but manages to completely fail at something as simple as cooking rice is utterly maddening.

 

Maedhros _knows._ He has to know some sort of fuckery was taking place in the pantry but _doesn't_ want to know who Curufin is spending his time with. _Definitely a wise choice Nelyo._ Celegorm thanks the stars and whatever deity is obviously on his side.

  
Maedhros’ soft footsteps are toeing at the edge of the kitchen. It seems like everyone is eager for him to leave as he hastily tells Curufin to clean up whatever mess he left behind. Curufin uncharacteristically agrees without a fight and if that isn’t the biggest tip off that something untoward was happening in the pantry Celegorm doesn’t know what is. He hears Curufin snark after Maedhros has left and clangs pots and pans around as loud as possible. Celegorm takes that as his cue to sort himself out. He hikes up his definitely ruined trousers and slips his tunic back over his body. The pantry is definitely more of a disaster zone than anything they left in the kitchen. Time to clean up.


End file.
